


I Wrap My Hands Around Your Neck So Tight With Love, Love

by codependentsoulmates



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breathplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codependentsoulmates/pseuds/codependentsoulmates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a portrait of a tortured you and I.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wrap My Hands Around Your Neck So Tight With Love, Love

 

"Dean," Sam breathes in a broken sort of whimper, back arching as his brother moves slowly within him. Dean isn't usually this tender, but the trials have really been taking their toll on him, and plus the whole being through hell again thing, Dean is being almost uncharacteristically gentle. Sam wraps his long legs around Dean's waist, digging his heels in as pleasure uncoils itself and snakes its way around every nerve ending in his body. " _Dean._ " He rocks his hips down onto his brother's cock, huffing out little breathy sounds of praise. 

 

Above him, Dean runs his fingers down every scar, every mark. His touch sends caresses of fire through him, even through the hardened skin. But for some reason, it's not enough. Sam knows what he needs; is almost too afraid to ask. He needs to feel owned and protected by his big brother. His life seems to be in everyone's hands but their own, and that needs to change. He needs Dean to hold the difference between Sam's life and death in his hands and he needs to feel loved even in  the midst of it. 

 

Dean's strokes deep inside him drag against his sweet spot deliciously and he arches his back, pressing his chest flush against  Dean's, a low keening sound slipping from his lips. "That's it, Sammy," he hears Dean murmur, voice barely a whisper, just sitting slightly on their soft groans. Dean's fingers skitter across Sam's neck and his hips jerk on their own accord, smearing both their stomachs with clear, sticky precome. His breath hitches, and there's a faint roaring in his ears. This is what he needs.

 

Of course, his brother gets it. His brother almost always gets it. He looks down at him, green eyes dark with lust but shimmering with  _something else_. "Gonna give you what you need, Sammy," Dean growls, leaning to bite firmly on Sam's pulse point, causing the younger brother to cry out Dean's name and clench tightly around Dean's cock, pulling a low, rough groan out of the other brother. 

 

Dean pulls up, starts fucking into Sam faster, harder, deeper, but still tender and Sam isn't sure how Dean does it. His brother's hand snake up his torso, tweaking his nipples, until his thumbs come to rest in the hollow of Sam's throat. He inhales deeply, nods at his brother, and almost melts when feels Dean's strong, capable hands tighten around his neck. This is what he needs. 

 

His brother is still moving into him with quick, brutal but gentle strokes, even as his hands close around his throat completely. Sam's body is already reacting to the restriction of oxygen. He fights against it slightly but relaxing into it, thrusting his hips down onto his brother's cock, and raising his hands to dig his nails into Dean's back. "That's it, Sammy. So good, so fucking good for me," he hears his brother say, but he sounds far away and all Sam can concentrate on is how good his brother feels, hot and throbbing inside him. Dean's thumbs press into the hollow of his throat, effectively cutting off his air supply and he's cork-screwing his hips and Sam can't last much longer.

 

Dean pushes his thumbs up, squeezing his fingers around the column of Sam's neck  _hard_  and Sam almost chokes with how good it feels; that's when Dean pulls his hands away. That first rush of oxygen almost hurts and it's what brings him over the edge, his orgasm hitting him with almost  painful force. He calls out Dean's name in a raw voice as his whole body shudders and tightens around Dean and that wrings the orgasm out of his brother and he's coming, hot and throbbing and deep, inside Sam. 

 

Sam gasps for air, reveling in the burn of his throat, glorying in the fact that there are going to be marks tomorrow and Dean would have caused them, out of pure love for his brother. Dean pulls out slowly, and Sam whimpers at the loss. "You okay?" Dean asks, touching the steadily purpling marks on Sam's neck. "Haven't wanted that in a while."

 

He pulls his brother in for a long kiss, the kind of kiss that says all the things you can't. "I'm fine," he replies. "Never better. Come sleep." 

 

They arrange themselves in such away that Dean's hand is resting on Sam's neck. And due to the way Dean sleeps, said hand will tighten sporadically at various intervals. It's dangerous, but they've tempted fate a thousand times already. As they fall asleep, Sam knows his life right now is literally still in Dean's hands. And he's never felt safer.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 30STM's song Up in the Air.


End file.
